Murder the Tradition
by Purema
Summary: Merlin is going to end the old tradition of pyres by threatening an even older one.


Murder the Tradition

Arthur watched from the window of his room how a pyre was build. He was nervous - Arthur had had plans for months now but he had been unable to voice them in the fear of negative reaction. They were big, big plans which would in the end affect the whole kingdom – and the first person he wanted to hear about it was a servant. Arthur would have laughed at that if he wasn't so scared the laugh would turn hysterical because of his nerves.

Arthur was very conscious of the fact that Merlin stood beside him in everything – he just didn't show his gratitude for it. How you express something so great without looking like a fool? Merlin would know, emotions were more of his thing… Arthur didn't know what he would do if Merlin would not support this decision. For one, Arthur hated it when he felt like he had disappointed Merlin. For two…Arthur couldn't think straight. The problem was that every time magic come up to be the topic of their conversation Merlin would start fidgeting – but he had also been a friend of that sorcerer Will…

Arthur took a deep breath and voiced his thoughts.

"There is nothing I can do for that man in the dungeons anymore but I need a good excuse to lit a lot fewer pyres."

Merlin was standing right beside the young King. He frowned and dragged his eyes from the pyre to Arthur.

"I can´t lift the ban on magic so soon after the death of my father but that is where I'm aiming at in the end – till then I need an excuse to stop killing sorcerers."

Arthur held his breath unconsciously. When he didn't get an answer for a while he turned to look at Merlin, who he found already staring at him with something like passion in his eyes.

"If that is your aim I will give you as many excuses as you want." Said Merlin seriously, not releasing Arthur's eyes from his gaze.

Arthur could feel relief wash over him. Merlin was indeed supporting his plans. Somehow he was feeling like in control of the situation again - like a King whose word was the law.

"…The pyre is an old tradition. How were you going to stop it?" asked Arthur quietly even though he had that illogical feeling of complete trust that Merlin was going to be his miracle yet again. Merlin was looking at the pyre in the courtyard with an air of confidence around him – like the man knew he had already won this war against an inanimate but fatal enemy.

"I'm going to end this tradition by threatening even older one." Merlin turned to look at Arthur again, smirk dancing on his lips and flame of excitement so much purer than pyre in his eyes.

"You have many old crazy men in your court who follow the traditions almost religiously. The older the tradition the more sacred it is. The pyre is not that old." The last part Merlin whispered at The King so close he could feel the servant´s breath on his cheek:

" _And thus it can be killed_."

With those words Merlin turned and strode out of the room, destination on his sure steps.

Arthur was left to look at his servant´s back and wait a threat to be set towards a tradition – which one, he did not yet know. A bit worrisome was the fact that he found he did not particularly care.

Merlin had said he would help to tame the flames. He would let The King know when it was his turn to take the stage.

So Arthur waited.

The moment Arthur had voiced his thoughts Merlin had been thrilled – _of course_ he had – but he had also been ready. Before Merlin even knew it he had a plan. He had long since noticed something about Arthur and Uther – a difference – a very minor one, but it had stuck to the back of his mind. And now he could use it to help him in something as enormous as change.

To let the flag of the kingdom touch the ground or get dirty some other way is considered irreverent. To burn said flag is…impious, unforgivable show of disrespect. It is like an attack towards the kingdom itself. Merlin had heard King Uther rant about it many times. Merlin had also seen how Arthur, still the prince, had rolled his eyes at the seriousness of it all.

When a member of nobility was buried or burned after their death there would always be a garment on them which would have, one way or another, Camelot´s insignia on it.

These factors had given Merlin an idea he did not dare to use when Uther was still on the throne – but now Arthur had practically asked him to do it.

When the pyre was lit in the same evening Merlin´s eyes lit up with the flames. The crowd woke up in horrified gasps and shouts, in whispers and prayers. On Arthur's face there was only surprised wonder when the flag appeared on top of the pyre.

The blazing colors of the flag were red and gold, Camelot´s dragon in the middle – the flag was also living like in a wild wind, no matter the evening was windless. The picture of Camelot designed generations back was send away from the land of living with the sorcerer when the flames identical with the flag´s colors reached it.

The mark of a noble vanished with the convict.

The act was at the same time honoring the death and opposing it. Camelot would burn with her own children.

King Arthur did not start searching the sorcerer behind the flag scandal with fervor as King Uther would have. He saved many lives by refusing the use of pyres because of the inevitable dishonoring it would bring to the kingdom - the flag would appear every time there was even a spark near a pyre. The old men of the court were surprisingly sensitive about such traditions as flags – they would agree to expel many sorcerers instead of using the pyre more easily than either Merlin or Arthur had expected.

Now Arthur was protecting the flags with power and vigor in his voice on those speeches Uther used to keep. Merlin was the only one who could catch the smirk on the King´s face after those speeches – The King´s new plays, really.

Arthur was surprised by the tradition Merlin used to murder the pyres – but really, what had he expected? It was Merlin; the result was bound to be a bit unorthodox. The King also didn't know how Merlin had managed to arrange the spectacle, but he had his excuse now, one he would gladly use and strengthen with his words.

Arthur didn't care about flags, those finery made of cloth. And since his friend didn't mind, Merlin took it as permission to burn as many flags as he pleased.

Many a tradition stands strong and true – but there is this power called change no one can stop once it has been released. There are no many brave and powerful enough to be able to release the change. But there are few.

For example, there are those who ally with their servants, watch them burn their flags and snicker to the faces the act causes in their very own court.

Many change has a face, a cause, a thrive – a noise. The noise can be cheering, it can be guns, silence or cries.

The noise of this change just happens to be snickering – and it does not make it any less magnificent in the legacy of other chapters of the story we call –

 _History._


End file.
